


Confrontation

by LaMariposaRoja



Series: Something Special [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Lover's Quarrel, M/M, Mental Health concerns, Unresolved Emotional Tension, mentions of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-05-26 13:51:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15002240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaMariposaRoja/pseuds/LaMariposaRoja
Summary: Dean has no flippin’ idea what the hell got Cas to turn so sour all of a sudden. He can’t recall what he did to turn his sweet smile into a stoic-faced glare. But it’s there – smile’s gone; bye-bye fun times, hello confrontation!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. This is a bit different from the stuff I usually post, but I think it's necessary. Not all relationships work out perfectly all the time and sometimes not everything gets resolved.
> 
> If you are easily influenced by argumentative behavior, I suggest you skip this one.

                 No.

_No, no, no!_ Dean keeps repeating to himself in his head over and over. The day had started out so nice – he and Cas had been laughing together not a few hours ago. So, what _happened_?

                Dean has no flippin’ idea what the hell got Cas to turn so sour all of a sudden. He can’t recall what he did to turn his sweet smile into a stoic-faced glare. But it’s there – smile’s gone; bye-bye fun times, _hello_ confrontation, ya little shit!

                Dean groans as he wipes his hands over his face for the nth time that night, rubbing at his temples in frustration.

                “Cas, what the hell, man? Tell me what I did to make you mad at me.”

                Castiel stares forward as he focuses all his attention on the flickering TV screen, acting like the gray static is the most interesting thing in the world right now.

                “Damnit! Answer me, Cas! Tell me what I did!” Dean keeps pushing for a response – a reason, a yell, a look, _anything_ other than this stupid silent treatment! He might as well not be sitting right fucking next to him, as far as Cas is concerned. It’s dumb and it’s childish and it’s getting on Dean’s nerves!

                Dean struggles to contain himself, seething from his spot on the couch. Finally, Cas moves, taking up the remote in his hand, he turns the TV off and stands up, still not looking to Dean as he hisses, “I have nothing _nice_ to say to you, Dean,” and stalks off in the direction of the bedroom.  

                Dean blinks for a moment, gawking at the empty air where his boyfriend _was_ standing, absolute rage creeping over his features. _What! Are you kidding me?!_ Dean takes a moment to try to collect himself, trying to listen to the little voice in the back of his mind telling him that confronting Cas now is a _bad_ idea. Unfortunately, that little voice is easily silenced by the larger, louder voices that grab the little one by the neck, choke it, bash it in, and absolutely fucking tear it apart – yelling at Dean to get to the bottom of this right the hell now!

                Dean doesn’t even realize he’s moving until his stomping footsteps lead him right up to the door of their shared bedroom. He twists the handle – locked. Figures.

                “Cas! Open the damn door!”

                 A distant ‘ _no!_ ’ is muffled by the wooden door. Dean lets a grunt tear out of his throat as it quickly morphs into a yell.

                 “Castiel! Open the fucking door!” He bangs his fists against it, knocking at the handle more than he is turning it. “Stop acting like a stuck-up _bitch_ and tell me what’s wrong!”

                  Another low response is muffled by the blocked doorway, but Dean is pretty sure it’s an insult along with an uncharacteristic swear from Cas.  

                  Dean hits the door once more for good measure before backing away, tuning in small circles as he contemplates whether or not it’s cost efficient to just kick the door in right now – probably not, but it’s an appealing thought. The longer he waits in the hallway, the more and more attractive the idea becomes. He tries calling out again, adding the word ‘please’ into his short sentences mostly comprised of curse words. Surprise, surprise! Bupkis.

                  Seriously! Dean has no clue what has Castiel so upset and it is annoying the shit outta him! He tries recalling everything that happened that day, sliding down against the wall as he wracks his brain for something, _anything_! Any little detail that can explain to him why his boyfriend is currently so pissed at him that he refuses to fucking look at him and has locked him out of _their_ room!

                  Again, Dean comes up with nothing and it’s driving him crazy! He kicks off one of his shoes and throws it forcefully against the door, watching as it connects with the wood with a loud BANG and bounces off to clatter lifelessly to the floor. Dean stares at the new smudge marking the white paint, feeling a perverted sense of satisfaction at having his anger on display in the physical world.  

                   No response is gained from beyond the threshold of the door.

                   Heated breathing soon slows down to become somewhat more regulated as Dean slouches in the hallway, focusing on calming himself down as the clocks tick onward into the night.

                   Dean blinks himself awake a few times, shaking his head each time it droops to the side as he diligently watches for the door to creak open. So far, it hasn’t. He hasn’t heard a thing since Castiel slammed the door shut and locked himself in. Hell, if Dean didn’t already know he was inside, he’d think the room was empty it was so quiet!

                   Soon the silence becomes too much for Dean. It’s eerily quiet, and he doesn’t like it at all as his heartrate began to quicken again.

                   “Cas? Cas, are you good?”

                   Still nothing.

                   “Please talk to me, Cas. You don’t even have to open the door if you don’t want to. Just let me hear your voice real quick.”

                  There’s a moment of hesitation before Dean hears a faint rustling along with muffled footsteps, they approach the door, but leave it be as they still just behind it, remaining hidden beyond the barrier.

                  “What do you want me to say, Dean?”

                   Dean sighs a little to himself before he answers, “Cas, I’m sorry. For whatever it is – I’m sorry. Okay?”

                   He waits with bated breath for a response.

                   “You don’t even know, do you?”

                   “Of course not! This is so stupi—but I’m sorry. I’m still sorry for whatever it is you think I did,” Dean catches himself and tries to correct it with the grace of a drunk ballerina on a tightrope spread across an erupting volcano.

                   He hears a deep sigh and a low thud, part of the light coming from under the door is obscured by a shadow – Cas probably sat down, Dean figures to himself.

                   “I really don’t know what to tell you, Dean. I’m angry.”

                   “I can see that.”

                   “Dean. I’m tired. I don’t want to argue with you right now.”

                   “Okay. So, talk. Why are you locking me out of the room? What did I do that was so bad that you can’t even look at me?!”

                   “I…I don’t know if I can explain it right now-“

                  “Then try,” Dean knows he’s being way too pushy at the moment, but Cas wasn’t being fair to him either! _He started it!_ That’s all that Dean’s childish brain reads at the moment as he waits for their adult conversation.

                  “Fine,” Castiel says with unexpected softness, his tone missing the righteous fury Dean had expected. Dean waits patiently for Cas to continue – it sounded like he was going to continue – but then he doesn’t, and Dean is met with silence yet again.

                  “Cas…Cas, can we please not do this? I want to apologize. And I want to understand.” But his pleas go unanswered.

                  Dean scoots up to the door, leaning his back against it as he tries to plant his ear closer to it in hopes that he will hear some secret that will miraculously reveal all and clear the misunderstanding locking him away from Cas. He doesn’t hear much else besides the light breathing and heavy sighs coming from the man sitting at the other side opposite Dean.

                   He leans his head against the door, knocking it slightly as he slumps and releases a lengthy exhale. He’s out of ideas. And honestly, he’s out of will power to do much of anything besides sitting and wallowing in his misery. Why the hell did this have to be so complicated? Everything was fine earlier. Right?

                   The more Dean turns the day over in his mind – sifting through all the happy memories – the less he feels like he understands about how everything led up to this. This…sad little moment beyond his comprehension as to the origin of its existence. It’ making his head throb and his heart feel like lead as it sinks heavily into his churning stomach. I’m sorry, his mind repeats like a broken record, _I’m sorry_.

                    Dean doesn’t even know what time it is when he’s rudely awakened by the terrifying feeling of his body falling backwards. He manages to slap a hand down fast enough to catch himself, his other hand reaching up to grasp at his spooked heart, pumping out adrenaline at the sudden jolt. When his brain finally catches up with the rest of his body and connects what it means, he looks up to see Castiel’s face looking down towards him – he’s holding the door open!

                     Dean quickly scrambles to his feet, maintaining eye-contact the entire time as he climbs to a position where their heads are on a level playing field. Cas looks _so_ tired! His blue eyes appear dulled and cloudy and almost hollow as he stares through Dean.

                    “Cas?” Dean tests slowly, bringing an arm up to reach out to him, but Castiel sluggishly avoids the contact. Something inside Dean twists painfully as he retracts his hand, allowing it to drop uselessly by his side.

                    The two continue their little staring contest for a few moments more, Dean’s eyes darting from eye to eye as he tries to get a read on Cas who only stares ahead like a Deadman walking.

                    “Cas? Castiel, I…Look. What I said earlier…in the hallway – everything I yelled at you – It wasn’t fair. I didn’t mean it, okay? _Please_ , will you say something?”

                    The man still doesn’t seem to register, and Dean’s breathing becomes a little more frantic, his eyes burning painfully as he blinks. What can he _do_? His words aren’t working and Cas doesn’t want to be touched by him, so what can he do but stand there and stare?

                    He looks for a sign. Any kind of sign: a twitch, a blink, a breath, _anything_!

                    …

                    …

                    …

                    Nothing.

                    Dean feels like he’s breaking down, his insides eating into itself, festering into some kind of black hole that’s consuming everything.

                    Completely and utterly dejected, Dean allows his eyes to drop to the floor.

                    He gives up.

                    Just as Dean turns to drift down the hallway, back to the couch, a hand circles his wrist, catching it in it’s heavy swing and earning Dean’s attention. Cas isn’t looking at him anymore, but he holds onto Dean, silently begging him not to go.

                    Dean turns back around as if to say that he’s not going to leave, not ever! Timidly, he brings his other hand up to brush against Castiel’s cheek, caressing his face in the gentlest touch he’s ever delt to another human being.

                    “Cas.” Dean breaths slowly, bringing his lips closer to the other man’s face. Cas looks spooked for a second, like he wants to pull away again, but instead of going for his mouth, like Castiel had thought, Dean places a tender kiss to the top of his forehead, stroking the dark hair out of the way as he quietly pets him.

                    A deep exhale leaves from Cas’s lungs as Dean draws his head in to rest on his shoulder. Cas lifts his jello arms to wrap them around Dean, pulling him closer to himself as he tries to relax.  Dean still feels like he wants to say something to clear the air, but he can’t bring himself to spoil the moment. He still feels like he’s walking on eggshells.

                    Instead of talking about it, Dean decides that the best medicine for this sick situation is for the both of them to get some shut-eye and sleep it off. It may not be the option he was hoping for, but at least Cas seems willing to let them be together in their bedroom for tonight, that’s all Dean can ask for, all things considered. He guides Cas over to the large bed, pulls back the covers for him, and folds it back up over his boyfriend’s limp body. Then he walks slowly around to the other side, remembering that the door is opened and going over to catch the handle in his palm. He sighs and looks at the lump in the bed, worrying his brow before he carefully shuts the door with a faint, barely-there click.


	2. Let's Settle This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe it was just a one-time thing? Dean tries to reason with himself. Cas was just having a bad day and it made him crabby. Everyone has their off-days. But the image of Cas’s stone-cold stare, the tired, absent look in his deep blue eyes…it haunts him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple people had asked me what had happened between Cas and Dean to make them fight. Honestly, I wrote the first part of the fic on pure emotion as I was angry with someone at the time. I wasn't planning on doing anything with the story, but reading it back, I decided it was kinda cruel to leave you guys guessing.   
> That being said, I had a hard time writing the second part for this story and I'm still not entirely proud of it, but I hope it settles some of the emotional tension.

                    It’s the morning after and Dean is no closer to figuring out what their argument had been about yesterday. He doesn’t know why anything had happened really, and it scares him to see Castiel like this.

                    When he tries talking to him about it, coaxing him softly with a gentle morning kiss, Cas turns away, gets out of bed and asks Dean to forget about it before heading into the bathroom down the hall, preparing for the day as per usual.

                    _Maybe it was just a one-time thing?_ Dean tries to reason with himself. _Cas was just having a bad day and it made him crabby. Everyone has their off-days._ But the image of Cas’s stone-cold stare, the tired, absent look in his deep blue eyes…it haunts him.

                    Something isn’t right…

                    But what can Dean do? Cas obviously doesn’t want to talk about it. Come to think of it, Cas has been acting slightly more distant recently. Their conflicting work schedules don’t leave much time for them to see each other during the day; only leaving brief conversations upon waking and maybe a few hours to watch a movie at night before heading off to bed. Rinse and repeat.

                    Castiel had always been fond of the movie nights they shared together. He enjoyed watching old classics that he had never seen before, but Dean declared to be sacred above all things secular. But for the past few weeks…Dean realizes that his partner hadn’t really been into it as much. Cas hadn’t been into anything as much, come to think of it.

                    He only seems to be floating about, living as dictated by his routine, and remaining as quiet as possible unless prompted by Dean or any guests they invited over. He always looked to be stirring in his thoughts; his stubbled jaw tightening as he stared out a window or at nothing in particular. Was that at all connected to what had transpired between the two of them the night before?

                    Dean had no way of knowing for sure. And he wasn’t going to get answers from Cas. He gives a small smile to the man as Cas wraps his trench coat around his shoulders and walks out the front door for the day, heading over to the pet store he owned himself. Dean sighs as the heavy door clicks shut. No, Cas doesn’t seem to be in the mood to enlighten him any time soon. So, Dean thinks to himself as he situates his own uniform for the day, tying up his heavy black boots as he finishes eating a piece of toast, he figures that he’ll just have to ask around elsewhere.

~*~

                    Work at the station today hadn’t calmed Dean in the slightest. They had only gotten about three calls: only one of which being an actual emergency rather than a prank-call, and even still, the man who was supposedly having an emergency ended up only being in dire need of a change in batteries for his fire alarms. Figures the one day Dean wished for a distraction from his thoughts the city was in perfect working order.

                    He spent his time on his phone or talking with his coworkers. They are all pals, so it wasn’t necessarily boring, but Dean swears that if Garth had gone on for a second longer about how Jar Jar Binks was actually some kind of Sith lord, he would have lost it. Luckily, Benny was working the same shift today; otherwise he might have just decked the string bean on sheer principle.

                    Dean thought about discussing the issue with Cas to Benny, but ultimately decided against it. They were close; Dean would almost go as far as to say the Cajun-accented man was like a brother, in a way. But when it came to this issue in particular, Dean felt it was best suited for him to talk with his actual brother. After his shift ended, Dean called up Sam, inviting him to a local pub – not the Roadhouse, he wanted to make sure no one was going to interrupt them (as fine as Harvelle company is).

                    In true Sam Winchester fashion, the conversation quickly shifted from small-talk and pleasantries to the main subject at hand.

                    “He might be depressed.”

                    “Everyone gets depressed!”

                    “No. I mean like he might be dealing with an actual depression disorder.” Sam takes a pause, allowing for his words to sink in a bit. “Think about it. I’m no doctor, but what you just described to me: loss of interest, detachment, change in mood – to me it sounds like he could be.”

                    Dean shakes his head. “If he were depressed, don’t you think he woulda told me or something? We live together for crying out loud.”

                    “You and I lived together, and I didn’t tell you everything either,”

                    “What are you talking about? You were fine.”

                    “Not always. Not all the time,” Sam says solemnly. “Not everyone is equipped to just ‘stow their crap’ twenty-four-seven, Dean. At least, not in a way that allows you to retain your sanity.”

                    “So. What? You’re saying that I’m the jerk that’s too stupid to notice anything abnormal?”

                    “That’s not what I said,” Sam corrects his brother. “Look, I’m not trying to start anything with you or between you and Cas. I’m just giving my input.” Dean scoffs but doesn’t otherwise answer. “You want me to get Jess’s opinion on this?”

                    “No. No, that’s okay.”

                    “Alright. But the offer still stands. I know she would be willing to help in any way she can. She’s not a phycologist, by even a nurse might have a little more knowledge on the subject if you ever need the help.”

                    “I got it covered, Sam.”

                    Sam knows that his brother’s words aren’t meant to be as biting as they sound. Dean has never been the greatest at dealing with emotions or mental stability, be it his own or someone else’s. But if this is taking a toll on Dean, then Sam can only imagine what Cas must be dealing with. He grimaces to think it could be anything like what he experienced growing up in John Winchester’s household. Being healthy means more than physical well-being, and unfortunately, the mind can play dirty tricks when it’s feeling neglected.

                    Sam’s jaw tenses a few times as he closes his eyes and wills the memories of his youth away. Whatever was going on with Cas, it’s obviously going to take more than a few concerned observations to confirm. Sam says as much to his brother before the man leaves, watching as Dean downs the rest of his beer before getting up from the booth and walking out to the parking lot. Dean knows he’s going to have to have a sit-down conversation with Cas about this, he’s just hoping that Cas is willing to actually talk.

~*~

                    Dinner goes by smoothly – if smoothly means not talking and barely any eye contact. But hey, at least there was no arguing.

                    Dean lets out an exasperated sigh, he’s been trying to figure out what exactly to say to Cas since the man got home about an hour ago; so far, he’s got nothing. Sitting there and bouncing his leg underneath the kitchen table isn’t doing anything for his nerves, but he takes a breath and decides that he might as well just go for it.

                    “Cas. Are you….are you depressed?”

                    Cas furrows his brow, squinting his eyes. “Why would you assume that?”

                    “Hey, easy there. I’m not trying to make you mad. I’m just trying to get a read here.”

                    Cas eyes Dean suspiciously before shifting slightly in his seat. “I don’t know.”

                    “What don’t you know?”

                    “How to answer that. I don’t know what to tell you.”

                    “Why?”

                    “What part of ‘I don’t know’ escapes your understanding?” Cas wipes at his face, shaking his head. “It’s not something I can simply explain to you because I don’t understand much of anything myself. If I thought there was something you could do, I would have let you know.”

                    “But you shouldn’t have to deal with it on your own! Damnit, Cas! This isn’t something you keep to yourself: if you’re sick, you need help.”

                    “I am not _sick!_ ”

                    “Oh yeah? Then riddle me this: why have you been acting so strange lately, huh? Better yet, explain to me why exactly you got so angry with me the other night that you had to lock yourself in _our_ room, keeping me away for hours, before opening the door and looking like a freaking zombie!” He scans from eye to eye, “In what way is that a healthy reaction?”

                    Cas reels back, distain clear on his face. He looks like he was getting ready to lash back, but his thin seam of his lips remains sewn shut. Slowly, the rage dissipates from his features, taking on a more solemn, remorseful expression. His shoulders slump visibly and his posture curves more inward as he rests his elbows on the table, bowing his head forward as his eyes scan nothing in particular as he mentally revisits the past few weeks.

                    Dean tries waiting for a response, but he’s growing impatient. With a slow breath through his nose and a wipe of his face, he adjusts his tone to a softer register. “Cas. I’m not angry with you. I’m upset, sure. But that’s because I’m scared. I don’t know what to do and you’re not talking to me! It makes me assume the worst. I hate seeing you like this and feeling like I somehow caused this or am making it worse.”

                    “It’s not…You didn’t…” Cas keeps trailing off, grimacing as he tries to find the right words to express what he’s thinking. It shouldn’t be this hard, but for whatever reason, Cas feels like there is some kind of mental barrier barring him from communicating his feelings properly. It’s like there are no words at all to describe the commotion – making him feel entirely alone, despite Dean sitting right there next to him, worried and willing to care for him. But that’s just making it worse! Dean shouldn’t be feeling bad for anything. He didn’t _do_ anything! Even that other night, Dean had barely done anything wrong, but Castiel’s mind had up-played the events so dramatically, making the smallest infraction a huge hullabaloo in his confusing, grief-stricken mind. Dean had been laughing; so, what? He was happy – he’s _allowed_ to be happy. Castiel should have been happy! But he wasn’t! So why the hell should Dean be so happy and giggly and joking during a time when Cas felt so absolutely frustrated with himself that he felt like he was going to rip apart from the inside out! It doesn’t make sense! His anger – his distain towards Dean that night – doesn’t make rational sense, yet there it was. And Castiel is left with so many conflicted thoughts that all lead back to somehow blaming himself for the whole event. And he should. It was his fault! He shouldn’t have acted that way and it clearly wasn’t fair to Dean. So, if he was able to admit that, why couldn’t he just snap out of it already? What is wrong with him?!

                    The legs of the wooden chair squeak against the tiled floor as Castiel stands up from the table, making to exit the room. Dean jumps up as well, grabbing Cas’s arm tightly to keep him in place.

                    “Let go.”

                    “No. Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

                    Cas struggles for a moment, twisting his arm in an attempt to pull Dean off of his sleeve, but Dean holds steady. The two stay like that for a few moments, Castiel looking away as he tries to leave while the other fights for him to stay. Eventually, Dean pulls Cas in by his arm, gently reeling him in close enough to get a hand on his chin to make him look at him. When Cas finally does turn, his downcast eyes are full of unshed tears, the line of his mouth pressed tight as he struggles to choke back his emotions. Dean shrinks at the sight, uncomfortable with not knowing how to handle the situation, but mostly worried at seeing Cas so distraught.

                    “Cas…Please,” he lowers his voice, “Don’t shut me out.”

                    Castiel huffs out a sharp exhale, leaning forward into Dean as he sobs lightly, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Dean, “ he repeats like a litany, “I don’t know what’s happening with me. One moment, I’m fine and the next… I know there’s nothing to be sad or angry about, but I just can’t help….”

                    Cas shakes his head in frustration, not being able to find the proper words and hating how unbelievable whiny he sounds. Dean holds him close, patting his back lightly as he softly urges him to continue.

                    “Dean, I….My life is working. So why do I feel like everything is falling apart?”

                    The question hangs in the air heavily. Dean doesn’t have an answer.

                    It takes a few minutes more for Castiel to calm down. It almost seems like the only thing holing him up is Dean as he leans heavily against the man’s shoulder, still looking away slightly as his breathing evens out. Dean hushes him softly, rubbing slow circles up and down his back as he tries to soothe him further. It wasn’t exactly the talk he was looking for, but Dean feels like he can start to understand.

                   “We’ll make it work. You’re strong enough to fight through this, man. But that doesn’t mean you won’t need a shoulder to lean on every once and a while; that’s what I’m here for.”

                   Castiel smiles weakly, closing his tired eyes as he leans into Dean. He feels like he should give a more audible response, but this feels like enough – to be close to Dean and letting his body do the talking if his tongue won’t let him. Dean seems to understand, wrapping his arms around Castiel in a warm embrace, scrunching his face as he plants a firm kiss to the top of his head, pouring every ounce of concern and devotion he has into it as to somehow let Cas know that he’s not going to let him drown. And he’s not going to let him give up either.

                   No one is at fault and no one is to blame for something that’s beyond their control, really. But that doesn’t mean that they’re not willing to confront this thing together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and constructive criticisms are always welcomed and encouraged.


End file.
